


Theora's Decision

by ElegantButler



Category: Max Headroom (TV)
Genre: Catatonia, Emotional Trauma, Gen, mental trauma, psychiatry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-22 15:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10700205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegantButler/pseuds/ElegantButler
Summary: After making a disturbing discovery about Bryce's past, Theora decides to fix the problem.





	1. Decision Made

CHAPTER ONE: Decision Made

 

“Cheviot’s announced a family day for the network,” Murray told his team.

“I can invite my cousin,” Edison said. “I’m sure Maddy would love to meet everyone.”

“And I’m sure Shawn and Winnie would be happy to see you again, Edison,” Theora told him. 

“I assume they’ll bring the baby,” Edison guessed.

“Alyssa,” Theora said. “Yeah, they’ll probably bring her along.”

“What about Bryce,” Edison asked. “Think he’ll try to weasel out of it?”

“He can’t,” Murray told them. “Cheviot said it was mandatory attendance. All employees must attend with at least one family member.”

 

In his studio, Bryce was on the verge of adding panicking to the incessant pacing he was doing.

“How can Cheviot do this to me?” he asked himself aloud. “Doesn’t he realize there’s a reason I haven’t seen my family since I got accepted at ACS?”

“Have you told told told him?” Max asked.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Bryce shot back. “It’s none of his business. He should just assume I don’t want to see them for a good reason. This forced encounter is something I don’t want. But he won’t hear of it. I swear he set this up just to force me to see them again.”

“I’m sure you can th-th-think of…”

“I’m out of excuses, Max,” Bryce told him. “I don’t want to ever see them again.”

Max was about to comment when Theora and Edison walked in.

“I know what you’re going to say, Edison,” Bryce said. “I told Cheviot I don’t want them here. But he’s insisting.”

“You know, it doesn’t have to be your parents,” Edison pointed out. “You can invite a brother or sister. Or an aunt. Or…”

“I get the idea,” Bryce said. “Unfortunately my parents and I all were the only members of our family. And my grandmother passed four years ago.”

“So why not invite your parents? It’s only for a few hours,” Edison pointed out. “I’m sure you can put up with them for that long.”

Bryce gave an exasperated huff and went into his bedroom. He lay down and put his pillow over his head. 

Edison threw his hands up in annoyance and left. But Theora would not be so easily deterred. She had never seen Edison give up so easily. Maybe he’d quietly decided that Theora would be better at dealing with this matter.

“Bryce,” Theora said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She reached down to touch Bryce’s back only to feel him flinch at her touch.

“Please, don’t,” Bryce pleaded, softly.

Theora raised an eyebrow. “Does your back hurt?”

Bryce didn’t reply. 

“Show me,” Theora requested, firmly.

“No,” Bryce said, his tone equally firm.

“Bryce…” Theora insisted.

“Just leave,” Bryce said as the door of his studio swung open.

A couple, whom Theora assumed were Bryce’s parents walked in.

“So this is where you’ve hidden yourself,” the man said. “Your mother and I were wondering where you went to after you graduated from that damned school.”

“I wasn’t about to tell you where I went,” Bryce snapped at him.

The man suddenly slapped Bryce across the face, hard enough to knock him down.

“That’s enough!” Theora shouted. “You’re his father! How can you…”

“I’m his stepfather, missy,” the man told her. “And I don’t think it’s any of your business how I deal with this worthless brat.”

“I can see why you didn’t want to see this bastard, Bryce,” Theora said. “And you,” she turned to Bryce’s mother. “How can you let this man hit your own son like that?”

“He had it coming,” Bryce’s mother said, offhandedly. “My life improved immensely after he left home.”

“You’re as bad as your bastard husband,” Theora told her.

“It’s okay,” Bryce said, finally standing. “My life improved after I left home, too.”

“You two can get the hell out of here,” Theora told them.

“I’m afraid we can’t,” Bryce’s mother pointed out. “The rules stated at least one family member needed to be present.”

“Well that may be true,” Theora said. “But it won’t be either of you.”

“Oh?” the man said in a threatening tone. “And how do you plan on solving your little problem?”

“I’ll adopt him,” Theora said, firmly.

“Theora?” Bryce asked, wonderingly. 

“It’s clear you don’t appreciate him,” Theora told the couple. “I’m sure he’ll be better off with me. Now, we can do this one of two ways. Either I drag you through the courts and embarrass the hell out of both of you, or you hand over custody right now.”

There was a long silence before Bryce’s mother looked at him with resentment in her eyes and turned to Theora.

“You want him? You can have him. At least now we don’t have to waste the rest of the day.”

Bryce stared at Theora, wondering what the hell had just happened. A sense of relief filled him as the couple who’d abused him as a child turned and left his studio.

“Bryce,” Theora told him. “I just need to print out the adoption certificate and then we both need to sign it since you’re old enough.”

Theora was mildly surprised and flattered when Bryce signed the paper as ‘Bryce Jones’.

“Now,” she said as she turned to Bryce and placed the certificate in her pocket. “Let’s go to that party.”


	2. Consequences of Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short glimpse of the network party

CHAPTER TWO: Consequences of Decision

Cheviot was not pleased when Bryce showed up without the couple Cheviot had seen walk into the Network less than an hour earlier.

“Where are your parents?” he demanded. “I know they came here a short time ago. You were specifically told that at least one family member…”

“My mom’s here,” Bryce said, calmly.

“Don’t lie,” Cheviot snapped at him.

“I’m not,” Bryce said.

“I don’t see Mrs. Lynch or her hus-”

“She’s not my mother, Ben,” Bryce snarled.

Cheviot hated it when the teenager used his first name.

“Bryce,” he said firmly.

Theora joined them presently and put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder.

“Miss Jones,” Cheviot said. “The Network’s family gathering will be starting soon and…”

“I know,” Theora said, tousling Bryce’s hair. “My son and I are looking forward to it.”

Bryce smiled up at her, then looked coldly at Cheviot.

“Miss Jones…” Cheviot began, trying to wrap his brain around this new information. “Let me see if I got this right. Out of the blue, you just decided to adopt Bryce.”

“Out of the blue, perhaps,” Theora told him. “But not without cause. I found things out, which I’d rather let Bryce speak of when he’s ready, that I could not just leave as is.”

Cheviot noted the bruise on Bryce’s cheek. “I think I can guess the issues in question.” he said. “Very well. I’ll accept the adoption.”

“As if you have a choice,” Bryce muttered.

“Mr. Lynch…”

“Jones,” Bryce corrected him.

“As you wish, Bryce Jones,” Cheviot said. “Well, go ahead and enjoy the gathering.”

Bryce and Theora walked into the cafeteria where the gathering was being held.

Shawn and Winnie were there with Alyssa who was currently reaching out for Edison’s nose.

“Max!” she was saying happily.

“No, honey,” Winnie told her. “That’s not Max. That’s Edison. Ed-i-son.”

“Eddy-fur,” Alyssa tried.

Max chuckled from his screen.

“There’s Max!” Shawn laughed, pointing at the screen.

Winnie turned so Alyssa could see Max Headroom.

“Hi, Shawn,” Theora laughed, hugging her brother briefly. “Hi, Winnie. Alyssa.”

“Hi, Theora,” Shawn said. “So, who’s your friend?”

“Shawn, this is my son Bryce.” Theora introduced.

“Your what?!” Shawn and Edison both exclaimed.

“Hello, Bryce,” Winnie said in the meantime. “Nice to meet you. I’m Theora’s sister-in-law Winnie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bryce said.

“Theora what the hell is going on?” Edison demanded. 

“It’s Bryce’s right to tell you, not mine,” Theora replied.

“You’re his mother for crying out loud. Why?” Edison pressed.

“Like I said,” Theora repeated, “ask Bryce.”

Bryce turned to Edison. “Look closely and I think you can guess the answer.”

Edison saw the bruise and nodded. “Yeah. I can guess.”

He turned to Theora. “Well, congrats to the new mom, then.”

“Theora’s…?” Murray asked, having just arrived.

“No, she isn’t,” Winnie said.

“I adopted Bryce,” Theora explained.

Murray wandered off trying to find a less complicated group of people to assuage the headache that was threatening to come on.

“G-g-grandma?” Max asked, looking at Theora.

Bryce laughed along with Edison, Shawn, and Winnie.

Theora put her face in her hands for a second, then started laughing herself.

“Well, I guess that makes Bryce Max’s father,” Edison remarked.

“Nope. He’s my-my-my mother. Mother.” Max told them.

“If you say I’m your father…” Edison warned.

“Not to worry, Edison,” Bryce said. “We’re only technically his parents. I think Max is just having a good time at our expense.”

“Not to mention mine,” Theora said. She mock-glared at Max. “Grandma indeed!”

“Well,” Winnie suggested, “I think we should have our own family gathering. How about next Saturday at the beach?”

“Sounds great,” Theora smiled.

“Can we bring Edison along?” Bryce asked, cheerfully.

“Sure. Family and close friends,” Theora offered. “You coming Murray?”

“I can’t,” Murray said. “I’m taking Anni to the fair this weekend.”

“Okay,” Shawn said. “Well then, it’s just me and Winnie, Theora and Bryce, and Edison…. Oh and Max if there’s a TV nearby.”

“There’s always a T-T-T.V nearby,” Max said happily.


	3. FAMILY PICNIC GONE WRONG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a near tragedy strikes at a beach-side picnic.

CHAPTER THREE: FAMILY PICNIC GONE WRONG

The beach was warm and sunny when they arrived late on Saturday morning.

Theora and Winnie spread the blanket on the sand while Edison and Shawn put up the umbrella.

Bryce went down to examine the seashore.

“Careful, Bryce,” Theora called to him. “There was an undertow warning this morning,”

“Let him be,” Winnie said, calmly. “He’s not even in the water. He’ll be fine.”

“Bryce,” Theora called again, “Why don’t you turn the TV over here,” she pointed at one of the many TVs that were perched on stands throughout the beach, “to Network 23 so Max can join us?”

Bryce sighed and headed back up to the TV. He wondered why Theora just didn’t switch it herself.

Turning the TV to Network 23, which was a very easy task, he spoke to the set.

“Max, you there?”

“Ah! Ah! The beach! The sun warms the heart! The water invig- invig- invigorates the body. And the sand gets in your sh-sh-shoes. Not to men-men-mention your…”

“Max!” Edison warned.

“Well, it does,” Max protested.

“How would you know?” Theora asked. 

“Well, I remem-mem-member a certain trip we took,” Max said, eyeing Edison.

“Some other time, Max,” Edison said, offhandedly.

“I”m going back to the water,” Bryce told them. “I saw a pier down there. I think I can see some of the local marine life a little better from it.”

“That pier doesn’t look too safe, Bryce,” Edison warned, giving it a quick glance. “Stay off it.”

Bryce sighed. “Fine,” he said in an annoyed tone.

“I mean it,” Edison repeated. “Stay off the pier.”

“Yes, Edison,” Bryce said, wandering back to the water. He crouched down to look at a small crab he’d noticed. He wished he’d thought to stop at an antique store and pick up a book on sea life before coming along so he could identify the little mollusk.

The crab soon got boring, and Bryce looking longingly at the pier, wondering at the fish and plants that swam and lived under and around it. Looking at the blankets, he saw that the others were busy chatting. 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Bryce said. “The thing only goes out four feet anyhow. Even if it did collapse, I’d just have to stand up.”

Bryce stepped onto the pier and walked along it until he was at the edge. Kneeling down, he gazed at the school of small fish, minnows he guessed, it was hard to be sure, swimming by him. Another fish, a little larger, swam by. Bryce smiled. He remembered one of his teachers at ACS talking about going fishing before the world had changed. He guessed it was fish like this one that the man would catch and later eat.

“I wonder what species that was,” Bryce said to himself as it swam out of sight. “Well, I guess I should head back before Edison sees me out here and gives me hell.”

Bryce started to stand when the pier gave way under the shifting of his body. The board he was standing on broke and he fell into the water.

He tried to find the bottom, but touched nothing. 

‘A drop-off,’ he thought to himself. 

He grabbed for the upright post of the dock, but it was too slimy to get a good grip, and the undertow was pulling him away from it too quickly.

Fortunately Edison had heard the splash. In a mixture of anger and panic, he turned and ran for the water, determined not to lose a second friend.

 

Theora turned to see where Edison was going. She saw the wrecked pier and realized at once what had happened.

“Bryce!” she screamed. “Edison! Save him!”

But neither her newly adopted son nor her best friend could hear her.

 

By the time Edison arrived at the spot where Bryce had gone under, the teenager was nowhere to be seen. Edison dove and struggled back to the surface several times before finally catching hold of the drowning boy.

Theora ran to the water’s edge, Winnie following close behind, while Shawn called for a rescue team.

Moments later, the team arrived.

A diver swam out to where Edison was struggling to bring Bryce back to the shore and pulled them both to safety 

Once they were on shore, Edison stepped back while a paramedic performed CPR on Bryce.

Theora rushed over, staring in horror at Bryce.

“Damn it, Bryce,” Edison said, in worried anger. “I told you to stay off that pier!”

Bryce was soon breathing again. But he did not sit up, nor did he speak.

“We’d better get him to the hospital,” the paramedic said. “Looks like he’s gone into shock.”

“So much for a family picnic,” Edison complained.

“Edison,” Theora chastised.

“I told him to stay off the damned pier, but did he listen?”

“Of course not,” Shawn told him. “Genius or not, he’s still a teenager. Edison, help me put the stuff in the other car. Winnie, take Theora and follow the ambulance.”

Winnie turned to Theora. “Come on, Theora. I’ll take you to the hospital so we can keep tabs on Bryce.”

Theora silently followed Winnie to her pickup truck, leaving the wagon to Edison and Shawn.

They followed the ambulance until it arrived at the nearest medical center. Theora and Winnie rushed to the check-in desk.

“My son was just brought in,” Theora said.

“Name?” the receptionist asked.

“Bryce Jones,” Theora said. “Personal ident code 7629-AB-double 4-37.”

“Incident?” 

“Near drowning at Weston,” Theora said. “Possible shock.”

The receptionist nodded and handed Theora an electric pad. “Just sign here.”

Theora signed the pad.

“Have a seat,” the receptionist told her. “The doctor will call you.”

Winnie led Theora over to a row of chairs where they sat to wait for news of Bryce’s condition.


	4. A Tough Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryce's condition forces Theora to make a hard choice

CHAPTER FOUR: A Tough Choice

“Theora Jones?” a doctor asked as he stepped into the waiting room.

Theora looked up from her silent contemplation.

The doctor was frowning slightly. 

“I’m Dr. Adamson,” he said, by way of introduction.

“How is my son?” Theora asked. “Is he okay?”

“His vital signs are normal,” the doctor told him. “And there are no physical signs of any brain damage. However, he is currently unresponsive. Now it’s normal for a person who has suffered a near-death experience to suffer from shock, so it’s best right now to keep him calm and not demonstrate any type of anxiety around him.”

“May I see him?” Theora asked.

“Of course,” the doctor nodded. He led Theora to Bryce’s bedside.

Bryce was in a reclining position, the bed half upright to make him as comfortable as possible.

“Bryce,” Dr. Adamson told him, gently, “you have a visitor.”

Bryce didn’t look at them.

Theora sat on the edge of the bed and careful took his hand.

Bryce just stared at the edge of the ceiling, not saying a word.

“Bryce,” Theora said, gently, “I’m very happy I didn’t lose you today. I’m not mad at you. I want you to know that.”

Bryce gave no indication that he even heard her.

“What’s wrong with him?” Theora asked the doctor.

“Traumatic shock,” the doctor explained. “I’d like to transfer him to Aberdevine Psychiatric. The doctors there are better equipped to handle cases like your son’s.”

“They won’t dope him up with drugs there, will they?” Theora asked, worriedly. 

“I can’t say,” Dr. Adamson admitted. “However, it is very rare that antipsychotic medication would be used for symptoms of catatonic shock caused by trauma.”

“Would I be able to visit him?” Theora asked.

“As long as they had no reason to believe that your visits were causing psychological scarring, I don’t see why not,” Dr. Adamson replied.

Theora wasn’t fond of the idea. But she knew she could not reach her son’s mind on her own. And she could not leave him in the state he was in.

“Very well,” Theora said. “But if I see any signs of mistreatment, I’m taking him out of there.”

Dr. Adamson nodded.

Theora sighed, and with a heavy heart she nodded her head.

“I just want my son back,” she told him, as she looked down at Bryce’s blank stare. She bent down, kissed Bryce’s forehead and whispered. “I’ll see you later on.”

Then she followed Dr. Adamson to his office.


	5. Dr. Bowie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryce is admitted.

CHAPTER FIVE: Dr. Bowie

Theora parked her truck in the visitor’s lot and ran swiftly to the admissions driveway. She followed the paramedics as they placed Bryce in a wheelchair and brought him into Aberdevine.

Once they were inside, Theora followed them to the admissions office.

“I’m Miss Williams,” the woman at the desk said. “I’m the admissions director.” She indicated a man in his early thirties with auburn hair and grey eyes. “This is Dr. Bowie. He’s our trauma specialist. He’ll be working with your,” she eyed Theora closely, “son?”

“Yes,” Theora explained. “Bryce is adopted.”

Miss Williams smiled warmly and nodded. “I have an adopted son also,” she told Theora. 

“Can you tell me what caused your son’s trauma?” Dr. Bowie asked, concernedly.  
“We were at the beach on a picnic and he fell off a pier,” Theora explained. “He nearly drowned.”

“Near-death trauma,” Dr. Bowie noted.

“You will be able to make him well, won’t you?” Theora asked.

“We will do all that we can,” Dr. Bowie assured her. “However, in cases of near-death trauma it’s often the patient who must reach out from whatever part of his mind he’s trapped inside of. Sometimes it’s a comfort zone, sometimes it’s a nightmare they can’t find their way past.”

“Will I be able to visit him,” Theora asked.

“I would happily encourage you to do so,” Dr. Bowie told her. “However, he might not acknowledge or even be aware of your presence. At least not at first. In time we hope to correct that and have him alert and aware as he was before the accident.”

“I hope so,” Theora said, worriedly. “I’m not fully happy about having to leave him here.”

“I understand completely, Miss Jones,” Dr. Bowie assured her. “Despite the changes made in mental health facilities and psychiatry, there are still some stigma attached to spending time in an asylum, even if it is only for a short time. I can assure you that your son will be treated with the utmost care and respect. It is our duty to help our patients recover from mental and emotional trauma as well as reach a comfortable level of normality.”

“What is normality?” Theora asked.

“Normality is defined by us as being what was normal for the patient before his or her crisis.” Dr. Bowie told her. “After all, what’s normal for you might not be normal for me. It’s normal for me to shave my face every morning, for example. But for you it would not be.”

Theora smiled at this. “May I visit Bryce before I leave?” she asked.

“I’ll show you to his room once we’re finished the admissions process. “Now tell me, has your son ever imbibed alcohol or experimented with illegal narcotics?”

“Never,” Theora said, shaking her head.

“How is he in classes?” Dr. Bowie asked. “Did he get along well with his peers before the accident?”

“Bryce is a graduate of the Academy of Computer Sciences,” Theora explained. “He’s been working at Network 23 for as long as I’ve known him.”

“So, he’s a genius,” Dr. Bowie noted. “Tell me, what made you decide to adopt him?”

“His so-called mother just stood by while his stepfather hit him hard enough to knock him over.” Theora told him.

“So you suspected he might have been abused,” Dr. Bowie asked her. “Was there a difficult custody battle?”

“No,” Theora replied. “They actually seemed happy to get rid of him. It’s really saddening to see someone treat their own family that way.”

“Indeed,” Dr. Bowie said as he continued to fill out the paperwork. “This might complicate things. Tell me, how would you describe your son before the accident?”

“Emotionally?” Theora asked.

Dr. Bowie nodded and motioned for her to continue.

“Very closed off,” Theora told him. “He wouldn’t even admit to having any emotion. Claimed he didn’t even dream. Though I seriously doubt that was true.”

“Unless he’s been forcing himself not to dream,” Dr. Bowie said, marking it down. “That could cause serious psychological damage. So we’ll have to address it. Anything else I should be aware of?”

“Not that I can currently think of,” Theora said.

“Well, you’re under a lot of strain right now,” Dr. Bowie said. “So it’s no surprise you might not be able to remember everything. If you want to add anything to the files later, you may always feel free to call and let us know. Now, let’s go see your son.”


	6. Aberdevine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early on during day one of Bryce's time at Aberdevine Asylum.

CHAPTER SIX: Aberdevine

Dr. Bowie stood just inside the door of Bryce’s room while Theora sat on the bed beside her son. 

“Bryce,” Theora said, though she knew he couldn’t hear her. “I’m sorry to leave you here. But I’m sure… I hope… that Dr. Bowie and the other staff here will be able to reach you and bring you out from wherever you are now. Then you can come home to me.”

She hugged Bryce for a moment, then stood up.

“I’d better go,” she said, firmly. “If I don’t leave now, it’ll be harder for me later.”

Dr. Bowie nodded. “I’ll show you out,” he said.

Theora nodded and followed him to the main lobby.

“Your son will be in good hands with us, Miss Jones,” Dr. Bowie promised.

“Thank you,” Theora said, as she walked out and went to her truck.

Dr. Bowie returned to his office. He would give Bryce some time to himself before he began their first therapy session.

 

Aberdevine was a well-respected hospital amongst the medical professionals who recommended it for psychologically damaged patients. The doctors, particularly Dr. Bowie and Dr. Reynolds, were known for their patience and kindness. And the rest of the staff was just as pleasant.

An orderly walked past Bryce’s room, paused, and returned.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” she asked.

Bryce did not reply.

The orderly realized that Bryce was very damaged psychologically and beyond hearing her. But she did not walk away at once. Instead, she smiled warmly at him and said,

“I look forward to talking with you some day,”

before she proceeded to tidy up the room for him. 

Dr. Bowie arrived just as she was finishing up.

“I see you’ve met our new guest, Miss Silvers,” Dr. Bowie said. “This is Bryce. He’s going to be staying with us during his recovery.”

Miss Silvers turned to Bryce. “It’s nice to meet you, Bryce.” she said, warmly. 

Bryce did not respond. But neither Miss Silvers nor Dr. Bowie expected him to.

“Will he be in the next group session?” Miss Silvers asked, wondering if she should get a wheelchair to bring Bryce to the group room.

“I think it would be better to wait a day or two,” Dr. Bowie decided. “I’d rather let him adjust to being here. I don’t want to yank him out of his current state too quickly or it could cause greater damage. He should go to his therapy session afterward, however.” He added thoughtfully. “I don’t want to slip any further away.”

Dr. Bowie and Miss Silvers left Bryce’s room. Miss Silvers went into the next room to tidy up while Dr. Bowie headed for the group room. On the way, he passed one of the nurses.  
“There is a new patient in Room 19,,” he told her. “His name is Bryce. He’s suffering from traumatic shock. He hasn’t had a physical examination done here yet, so I’d like you to get his pulmonary readings and temperature.”

“Yes, doctor,” the nurse replied as she went to Bryce’s room.


	7. Therapy Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryce begins therapy with a group session

CHAPTER SEVEN: Therapy Begins

Bryce had been at Aberdevine for three days when Dr. Bowie decided he’d settled in enough to begin therapy. Although he was still not responding to external stimuli, it was clear that he was capable of taking care of his body’s needs. He used the bathroom and ate without much fuss, though he did both of these things silently and in a rather mechanical fashion.

An orderly wheeled Bryce into the group room. Dr. Bowie had decided his first attempt at reaching Bryce would be to subject him to harmless but unfamiliar external stimuli in the hope that the unfamiliarity would stimulate his curiosity.

The other patients looked at Bryce with varying degrees of interest. They wondered who the new person in their group was and waited, some calmly, some with agitation, for him to speak.

“This is Bryce,” Dr. Bowie told them. “He’s new here.”

“Can’t he speak for himself?” a girl asked.

“Not at this time, Lynda,” Dr. Bowie explained. “That’s the reason he’s here. He had a bad experience and it affected his mind. We’re not sure at this time how much of what we’re saying or doing is reaching him. But I thought it might be a good idea for us to say hello, just in case he can hear us.”

“Oh,” Lynda replied. She looked at Bryce. “Hi, Bryce,” she said.

The others in the group each said hello, some cheerfully, some tersely. 

Bryce did not reply. If he could hear them, he gave no sign of it.

“Let’s begin, shall we,” Dr. Bowie suggested. “Since it might benefit our new guest, I suggest we start off with a soothing group hypnosis session.”

“Excuse me, Dr. Bowie,” Miss Adamson said in the doorway. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you wanted me to let you know when the new staff member, Dr. Richards arrived.”

“I’m conducting a group at the moment,” Dr. Bowie said, not unkindly. “Have one of the orderlies show him around. I’ll be with him in about fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Miss Adamson replied as she left the room.

“Now,” Dr. Bowie said, calmly as he dimmed the lights,. “let’s begin our session. I want all of you to close your eyes.”

As the patients followed his directions, Dr. Bowie spoke. His voice was calm, his tone relaxing.

“I want you to picture yourself in a field. There is a hammock in the field, held up by two trees. Picture yourself climbing into the hammock. The warm sun is shining down on you, relaxing you with its warmth…”

He looked at Bryce, searching for any signs that the hypnosis was reaching him. If hypnosis could calm his mind, it might also be useful in retrieving him from his catatonic state. If not, they could try other options.

He only hoped they could avoid the more dramatic options. The brain this boy’s trauma had locked away was allegedly brilliant. Anything that risked the destruction of that brilliance was something to be avoided at all costs.

He could see no sign of change in Bryce’s demeanor, however. But it did not concern him unduly. Bryce had only been there for three days now. And his young mother, Theora, had mentioned that he’d never dreamed. Or at least claimed he never did. So it was likely he would get more out of the doctor’s soothing tones than the description of the quiet and peaceful setting he was describing.

Bryce sat there in his wheelchair, unaware of where he was or why. In his mind, he could see only a wall of water around him and above him. The water stretched forever in all directions, dark and blurry, leaving him with no sense of direction.

His mind panicked. He wanted to cry for help. But the water would drown him if he tried. So all he could do was wait for someone to pull him to the surface.


	8. Dr. Richards' Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aberdevine's newest doctor makes a terrible mistake regarding Bryce's care.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Dr. Richards’ Mistake

Dr. Richards was an old-school psychiatrist. At the age of seventy, he had been on staff at several hospitals. He’d overseen the internship of several good doctors and nurses. Most of the new doctors, like Dr Bowie, prefered more new-age style medicine; using meditation and relaxation techniques to calm the mind, rather than the more proven medications and electroconvulsive therapies.

There were of course those who claimed that electroshock, as they called it, often damaged patients. But of course Dr. Richards refused to believe such talk. Yes, it was true that the brain was sometimes temporarily compromised until it finished re-routing itself. And sometimes the nay-sayers rushed out their pamphlets and doomsday flyers based on unfinished information. But there was no concrete proof.

Looking at Bryce’s case file, he shook his head. “This one’s beyond meds,” he told himself. “It’s clear that he’d benefit from electroconvulsive therapy. I’ll arrange it for this afternoon. It would be cruel to keep him imprisoned in his own mind any longer than necessary. Why Dr. Bowie hasn’t done this sooner is beyond me. But there’s no time to dwell on that now. It’s probably just his new fangled training. No matter. It’ll all be taken care of soon.”

Dr. Bowie arrived at Bryce’s room that afternoon to hold a one-on-one therapy session with him and was surprised to find him gone.

“Miss Silvers,” he asked. “Have you seen Bryce Jones anywhere?”

“Dr. Richards stopped by and retrieved him about five minutes ago,” Miss Silvers replied. 

Dr. Bowie didn’t like that Dr. Richards had taken his patient out of their room without consulting with him first. He stormed off to find the man and let him know exactly how Aberdevine worked.

“Have you seen Dr. Richards?” he asked one of the orderlies.

“He was heading toward Room 99, I think,” the man told him. “I thought that room was closed down.”

“It was,” Dr. Bowie said, walking as fast as he dared. He didn’t want to scare the patients, but Bryce was in real danger if Dr. Richards was planning what Dr. Bowie believed he was.

He reached the end of the first corridor and turned right at the junction. Hurrying past the first two doors on the left, he rushed into the third just as Dr. Richards activated the ECT machine.

Bryce continued to drift in the dark waters of his mind, the surrounding fluid neither dark nor light. He held his breath, not knowing he was inside his own mind. Only knowing that he couldn’t breathe or he would drown. Then the pain came. Pain so overwhelming that he could not hold back the scream of his inner self. His mouth opened, but no sound came as the waters rushed into his mouth and down his throat. Paradoxically, he could still breathe, but he could not get air. Darkness enveloped him and he felt himself sink to the bottom of whatever body of water this was.

 

“Stop!” Dr. Bowie shouted, too late. 

“Dr. Bowie,” Dr. Richards said, cheerfully. “Come to check on…”

Dr. Bowie wasn’t listening to him, however. He was removing the headpiece from Bryce’s head, yanking the electrodes from him as he checked for signs of life.

Bryce’s head lolled to one side, as Dr. Bowie found his pulse.

“He’s alive, thank goodness,” he told Dr. Richards. “Don’t just stand there like an idiot, even if you are one. Get an ambulance.”

“He just needs a moment for his brain to recalibrate,” Dr. Richards insisted. “He’ll be fine!”

Dr. Bowie pressed the intercom button. “Miss Silvers,” he said. “We need an ambulance for Bryce Jones. There’s been an… incident... I don’t know how severe his case is at this stage.”

The ambulance arrived and the paramedics rushed to retrieve Bryce and bring him to the med-center.

“What happened?” the chief paramedic asked as they placed Bryce on the stretcher.

“My colleague performed electroconvulsive therapy on him without my knowledge or consent,” Dr. Bowie said, bitterly.

“I’m your colleague, as you just said, “Dr. Richards pointed out. “And your elder. Not your son. I don’t need to clear everything with you.”

“When you’re working with my patients you do,” Dr. Bowie said. “Your handling of this patient is disgraceful. I can see now why you never stayed at any one hospital for long.”

The chief paramedic called the med-center as soon as he and his team had Bryce in the ambulance.

“Electroshock incident,” he told them. “Patient is unconscious and unresponsive. Possible brain-death.”

Dr. Bowie followed the ambulance, dragging Dr. Richards with him. He did not trust the man to remain behind with his patients. Not after what he’d done to Bryce. And besides, he felt the man owed Bryce’s mother an explanation.


	9. His Mind Ensnared

CHAPTER NINE: His Mind Ensnared.

 

Theora ran into Bryce’s hospital room with tears in her eyes, followed by Edison Carter who looked absolutely livid.

“I told you not to send him to those people,” he was shouting at her. “I told you they couldn’t be trusted.”

“Dr. Bowie came highly recommended,” Theora argued. “The quack who did this wasn’t even working there when Bryce started his treatment.”

“Now is not the time for fighting,” Dr. Bowie told them as he approached them.

“My son is brain-dead because of your hospital’s carelessness,” Theora snarled at him. “So I don’t think your opinion…”

“He’s not brain-dead,” a new doctor told them as she approached them. “He’s almost brain-dead, but our machines are reading periodic spikes in cerebral activity. So there’s the tiniest spark still functioning. I’m Dr. Everson, by the way.”

“So, what are his chances?” Edison asked, his voice demanding honesty.

“It’s hard to be sure at this point,” Dr. Everson admitted. “Sometimes on rare occasions the brain recovers completely from things such as this. At other times it withers and dies. Since we can’t read the patient’s mind, we have no idea whether what’s causing the blips we’re seeing is a struggling spark or a dying ember.”

“But even embers can ignite a blaze,” Theora argued, hopefully.

“Wait a minute,” Edison said. “We can see into his mind. If we could get someone to perform the Max Headroom program on him.”

“I assume the Max Headroom program works using the same idea as an EEG?” Dr. Everson asked.

“Yes,” Theora told her. She had set up the wires when Edison had been cured with the program following his infection with the Neurostim virus. “Why?”

“I’m afraid it would be impossible, then. Since the electroshock he endured has altered his mental pathways. To be honest, I’m not even sure how well his brain will function if he does recover.”

“As long as there’s hope, I’m not giving up,” Theora told them, taking a seat by Bryce’s bed.

Bryce’s innermost self stood stiff as a statue, waiting for death and wondering why it did not come. There was no air here. No light. No sensation, save for a feeling of entrapment. He tried to think, but his mind seemed only able to function at random times, like the hand of a dying clock slowly struggling to mark the seconds, but only managing to tick ahead one second every few minutes.


	10. Inner Memories

CHAPTER TEN: Inner Memories

“Theora,” Edison said, after everyone else had left Bryce’s hospital room. “I’m sorry.”

Theora ignored him. She knew he was only angry about Bryce’s condition, the same as her. But she still didn’t think it gave him the right to accuse her. She didn’t want to deal with that right now, though. Her son was more important.

“Bryce,” she said, stroking the boy’s forehead, “I wish you could hear me. If only there were some way I could reach you. I don’t know how close they were to awakening your mind before that awful man damaged it.”

The steady sound of the heart monitor was punctuated every now and then by the struggling blips from the EEG.

Theora wondered what Bryce’s brain was doing during those tiny peaks of activity. With the Max Headroom process eliminated as an option, she knew her only hope of finding out would be if Bryce woke up.

A weak blip sounded, barely audibly. Theora stared at the machine, as if willing it to come to life. She wanted to see it announce the awakening of Bryce’s mind. But no such thing happened.

Finally, Theora looked up at the clock. Visiting hours would soon be over. She had been given permission to stay overnight, though. Just in case.

Just in case of what, though? In case he woke up? The other side of that coin was unthinkable. Bryce was just on the cusp of seventeen. He couldn’t die. Not when he had his whole life ahead of him.

But what kind of life was it, she wondered, looking at the silent figure there amidst the machines.

Bryce’s inner self had no idea she was even there. But it was beginning to calm. The initial panic at the thought of drowning was gone. He realized if he were going to drown, surely he would have done so by now. On the other hand, he was still floating in this darkness, whatever it was.

~I’m not dead,~ he reasoned to himself. ~None of my long-dead loved ones are here. So this isn’t Heaven. And there are no demons or tormented souls, so I’m not in Hell. So where am I?~

He felt his inner consciousness start to fade again. But, no! Not this time. Every time he started to reason things out, his mind would go blank. But this time that wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t allow it!

There was something familiar about it. He’d been in a similar situation. But he couldn’t quite remember when.

~Don’t be silly,~ he told himself. ~You’ve never floated around in the darkness in your life.~

Nevertheless, it was somehow familiar.


	11. Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryce realizes where he is

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

Theora was awakened by a sound that at first she didn’t understand. Then she realized what it was. The machine monitoring Bryce’s brain activity was showing an increase in the number of blips it had been giving off.

Theora watched in a mix of anticipation. Was Bryce beginning to recover? Or was the final spasms before death claimed him.

She sat up and moved to sit in the chair beside the bed, resting her hand upon his, being careful of the needle bandaged into his arm.

“Bryce,” she said, softly. “I’m right here. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m staying right here until you wake up.”

She took the button from the bedside and used it to page a nurse.

The nurse hurried in an instant later.

“Is he awake?” she asked.

Theora shook her head. “But his brainwave patterns increased a moment ago.”

The nurse smiled. “That’s a good sign.”

Theora gave a brief nod. “I just hope his brain isn’t too damaged from that electroshock. I wish I’d never agreed to put him in that place.”

She looked down at Bryce, wondering if anything was going through his mind.

 

Deep in his own mind, Bryce pondered the trap he had been in. He’d been stuck here now for quite some time. He wasn’t sure how long. Linear time didn’t seem to exist in this place. Instead, time seemed to fan out in a circle around him. 

Then something clicked and he finally understood. He wasn’t in a trap. He knew where he was. Somehow, he didn’t know how, he’d slipped into a protective dream. He’d never dreamed before, and he didn’t know why his brain had decided on this form of protection. But here he was. He just had to figure out how to get back out again.

~What are you dreaming about,~ he told himself. ~That’s the first question. Answer that and you can figure out how to escape it.~

He extended his body and this time, he felt the surrounding mass stretch with him. He couldn’t free himself that way. He had to think of another way.

~Well, this is certainly the place to do that,~ he laughed. ~No better place to think that inside your own mind. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in here. I have to wake up somehow. I haven’t been this confined since…~ then it dawned on him. ~Since before I was born.~

This womb had no exit, however. He realized he had to think of a way to break through. He couldn’t stretch enough. But maybe…

He grabbed the membrane that surrounded him and pulled at it. At first it held fast. Then it finally gave way.

Bryce emerged from the deepest part of his mind, but he was not awake yet. He was no longer trapped, but it wasn’t good enough.

He had to wake up.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE:

Theora sat beside Bryce’s bedside as the doctor studied the machines which were now indicating that Bryce could wake up any day.

“Miss Jones,” he told her. “Let me be frank with you. When he awakens, he probably won’t be the same as he was before all this took place.”

“You’re saying he’s not going to be a genius anymore?” Theora asked, sickened by the idea. For someone like Bryce to lose something that precious…

“Not necessarily,” the doctor told her. “Brain damage can take many forms, not all of them intellectual. It’s possible that his mind might simply be locked, as I like to call it. Everything might still be there, and he might be able to think clearly on an almost subconscious level but unable to express himself clearly.”

“You say there are other forms the damage can take,” Theora noted. “Such as?”

“It could take physical forms, such as blindness or paralysis,” the doctor explained, regret in his voice. “In either case, it will most like effect him on an emotional level. Try to imagine wanting to express yourself but being unable to get anyone to understand you. Or worse, having people treat you like an intellectual inferior when you’ve got the mind of a genius and you’re unable to unleash that intelligence because your neural pathways no longer function properly.”

“I can see how that might be irritating.,” Theora said, sympathetically.

“It’s possible, also, that he might suffer from multiple symptoms. However, we won’t know until he is fully conscious.”

Bryce’s eyes were closed, but he could hear every word the doctor was telling Theora. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to tell them that he was fine. That he was just as intelligent as he had always been. But something was holding him back.

Was he afraid of waking up, he wondered. Was he worried that the doctor’s prediction, that he would no longer be able to express his intelligence. That was silly. Of course he’d be able to express it. He could still write and type, even if he couldn’t speak properly. Unless he opened his eyes and discovered he was blind. Then what would he do? Surely life couldn’t be that cruel to him!


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Theora smiled at first when Bryce’s eyes blinked open. But her smile was short-lived.

Bryce began to whimper like a frightened puppy and reach out in desperation and panic. She quickly sat down beside him and put her arms around him. It was clear to her that he was blind.

“I’m right here,” she told him, soothingly. “It’ll be alright.”

Bryce gave a whimper and buried his face in her chest. The darkness that now made up his world terrified him. He didn’t want to leave the circle of her arms. It was the only place that was safe now.

Theora sat up after a while, disengaging the hug.

Bryce immediately started whimpering again.

“I’m right here,” Theora told him, but she did not embrace him right away. She didn’t want him to grow too dependant upon her.

The doctor nodded, letting her know this was the right choice.

“There is a school for the blind in Islington,” he told her. “It’s a day school so he’d be home in the evenings.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay there?” Theora asked, listening to the keening whimpers that came from the stricken teen.

Bryce whimpered for a while longer, then began to settle down as he realized that the voices meant he was not alone.

“He’ll be fine over time,” the doctor assured her. “He needs to get used to being around different people without being able to see them. It’s a very scary idea and he needs to get past that fear.”

 

“When should he start attending?” Theora asked.

“First you should let him get used to being around the house,” the doctor told her. “He needs to familiarize himself with the placement of everything. Mind you, we still don’t know how his brain damage has affected his long and short term memory. So he might never be able to memorize it.”

“Should I wait until we can determine his memory problems before letting him attend the school?” Theora asked. “I mean, he might not get much out of it if…”

“The teachers at the school are trained to help all sorts of children and teens. Including those with moderate to severe mental dysfunction. He’ll be fine.”

Bryce wanted to tell them that mentally he was fine. But all he could manage was a demanding whimper. He felt angry. He wanted to scream, to communicate. He wanted to be heard and understood. But all he could manage was that one sound.

“Bryce,” Theora said, “I know you must be very annoyed right now. But everything will be fine.”

Bryce shook his head emphatically. It wouldn’t be okay. It would never be okay again. Couldn’t they understand that? Couldn’t they see there was no way out of the prison that his mind had become.

He wished that he’d stayed in the coma. That he’d never discovered how helpless he had become.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

Theora guided Bryce into the apartment they had shared ever since his adoption. She had spent the previous day making sure it was picked up and that there was nothing on the floor that Bryce might trip over.

She’d organized things so there were wide paths between them, giving him space to move a cane or be maneuvered by a seeing-eye dog if one was provided to him.

She led him to the sofa. “Back up three steps and you’ll feel the sofa behind your knee. Would you like to listen to the TV?”

Bryce nodded but did not speak. Theora wondered if his ability to speak was gone forever, or if it would return once he felt safe again.

Bryce listened to her footsteps as they moved away. He felt a surge of panic, but bit it down. He had to learn to live in the darkness. To not jump at every noise.

“This is Max-Max-Max Headroom!”

Bryce heard the voice and was drawn to it.There was a familiarity to it. He wondered if he’d heard the name before. 

“Hello, Bryce,” Max said. 

Bryce tilted his head quizzically. If this Max knew his name, then he must have known Max at some point. He tried to think of when they might have met. Had they ever hung out together? Or was Max his mother’s friend. His voice suggested he was an older man. Maybe Max had been his babysitter when he was younger?

No, he thought to himself. That seems wrong somehow. He didn’t think he’d known Max for that long.

Bryce wanted to ask “Who are you?” but all that came out was a whimper. He angrily punched the sofa cushion.

Seeing this, Theora went over to him and clasped his hands in her own, hoping to calm him before things got too far out of hand.

“Calm down, Bryce,” she said, “this is Max. You created him about a year ago. Don’t you remember?”

Bryce shook his head. It was worse than he thought. He had created something he couldn’t recall making. He wondered what other memories were gone from him. He hated being so forgetful.

He concentrated, trying to recall the moment he’d made Max. But the recollection wouldn’t come. He tried harder. The more he tried, the more frustrated he became. He began whimpering as he held his head, shaking it from side to side as if trying to dislodge the memory from wherever it had become stuck.

Afraid that he might hurt himself, Theora clasped him in her arms and hugged him reassuringly.

“Hush,” she told him. “It’s okay if you don’t remember. You’re brain suffered some damage from all the things you’ve been through.”

Bryce wailed at this, as if it were the last thing he wanted to hear. Within his own mind, he screamed in terror. To be told his mind had been destroyed, that he was no longer the genius he once had been… it was worse than death.

“Maybe some of it will come back one day,” Theora offered. “Sometimes we remember things that we thought we’d forgotten years ago. I was reading up on the damage caused by shock treatments while you were still in that coma. It said that sometimes lost memories come back after a few weeks or months. So let’s not give up yet.”

Bryce soon settled down.

Theora relaxed. “Why don’t you turn in? I know it’s only 9, but we’re going to talk to the teachers at the blind school tomorrow.”

Bryce shook his head.

“Why not?” Theora asked. “Don’t you want to learn how to cope with your condition?”

Bryce thought about it and nodded.

“Then why don’t you want to go to the school? Are you scared?”

Bryce shook his head, then turned away.

“Are you embarrassed about your condition?” Theora guessed.

Bryce nodded solemnly.

“Oh,” Theora said, taking his hand. “It’s okay. You’ll be just fine.”

There was a knock at the door. Bryce whimpered, trying to ask Theora not to answer it.

Theora looked at the door and saw Edison looking through one of the panes of glass.

“It’s okay, Bryce,” she told said. “It’s just Edison. He’s a friend.”

She stood up from the sofa causing Bryce to reach out for her. This in turn caused Bryce to fall to his knees, bumping an elbow on the edge of the sofa.

Bryce began crying out, more from surprise than pain. He was in a state of full-blown panic now. He couldn’t keep things in his memory. And the school would expect him to remember what they taught him. But he would forget. He would always forget.

His wails grew louder, almost turning into screams as his frustration got the better of him.

“I just wanted to see how Bryce was getting on,” Edison said.

Bryce looked confused. Theora said this man was named Edison. But surely it was Max who was speaking.

Theora noticed the look and put her hand reassuringly on Bryce’s shoulder.

“When you made Max, you used Edison’s mind,” she told him. “That’s why he and Edison sound the same.”

Bryce nodded. He didn’t understand it fully, but it sounded right. That was at least something.

“He’s been having a really bad time of it,” Theora said. “Between the blindness and the memory problems, he’s been having all kinds of fits. He’s so unlike the way he used to be. I just wish I could be more reassuring.”

“It must be hard for him,” Edison said. “He’s gone from being able to express himself clearly to having almost nobody understand what he’s trying to say.”

“I can get some of it,” Theora admitted. “But I must admit I can’t get it all. And I think you’re right. He is very frustrated. And I can’t leave him alone for any significant amount of time without him going into a full-blown panic attack. We’re supposed to visit the blind school tomorrow. I want him to feel less helpless. I know it will do him good. But I’m afraid he’s going to have a breakdown when he realizes I won’t be going with him.”

“He’ll have to learn to adjust to it eventually,” Edison pointed out. “You can’t hold his hand all the time.”

“I know, Edison,” Theora admitted. “I guess I just feel guilty about what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault that so-called doctor did what he did,” Edison told her. “And it’s not Bryce’s fault either. Neither of you should be suffering.”

“But Bryce is suffering, Edison,” Theora said. “And I feel that there’s nothing I can do to make it better.”


End file.
